


Working Hours

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drabble, Dresses, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Riding, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kita happens to own a maid dress. Atsumu likes it.A lot.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 3
Kudos: 132
Collections: Anonymous





	Working Hours

Atsumu has never been one dedicated to religion. Gods and deities are nothing familiar from his childhood; his parents have never visited shrines, his grandparents have never been the type to drabble in such practises. Such thoughts have never crossed his mind, although he can say he's pondered on someone mighty and divine seated in the sky peering down on him a record of two times, he mainly chooses to ignore it. 

But perhaps he'd have to take a second take on that. Perhaps he'd have to pray daily, for Gods help him, with Kita Shinsuke rocking his hips back and forth in his lap, nothing is more heavenly and godly than this. If he were to ever lay his eyes on a divine figure, his eyes would certainly only gravitate towards Shinsuke. 

Like this, he is perfect. 

With a lapfull of Kita, Atsumu prays for the first time. He prays he won't lose his control, prays he won't grip Shinsuke by the hips and flip them over, then mercilessly pound into Shin like the absolute animal Kita is morphing him into. Although, it is tempting. 

Like this, he is divine. 

And Kita notices Atsumu is beginning to lose himself to his own mind. There isn't a show here for nothing, and Atsumu is doing everything but watching. 

"Atsumu," Shinsuke mutters, rolling his clothes hips forward again. The two groan at the contact of their cocks grinding together, and Gods, another thing Atsumu prays is for their clothes to go. Or perhaps... Just the boxers. 

For the dress that hooks around Shinsuke's shoulders, and fits so perfectly around his waist sits a maid dress. The sort you'd see girls down the street advertising a maid café in, or the few fan service scenes in cliché anime. It's short. Too short, and the tent in the lower skirt part begs for Atsumu to rip it off. 

Atsumu's eye flicker up to meet Kita's own: stern, demanding, yet hazy with a fog Atsumu has seen before. Shinsuke can be greedy, he can be taking, and Atsumu allows it fully. 

But not now. 

The frills at the end of Kita's dress takes up space in Atsumu's lap, and they also make good use of showing the lining and tents of both Kita and Atsumu's erections, both painfully hard. 

"Shin..." The blond whines, hands travelling towards Kita's clothed hips. They're delicate, Atsumu knows, and he does his most absolute best to be gentle. "Holy fuck... 'Yer so fuckin' hot, all for me, ain't that right? 'Ya bought this just fer me, didn't 'ya?" 

His words, course and rough, throaty and low, causes Kita to whine, his dick twitching under the maid dress eagerly. Shinsuke nods, his face filling perfectly rather similar to his cock, and allows his small hands to press on Atsumu's chest for him to rest down. 

His large hands slowly move to the expanse of Kita's thighs. Slender, yet meaty in the places that matter, and Atsumu's palm fits perfectly to grip them to their entirety. They, too, are clothed, except a few inches above Shinsuke's knee, just at the midst of his thigh, ends a pair of thigh-high socks. His thighs practically spill from them, although they both somehow stay perfectly fit. Atsumu traces the line of Kita's legs in unison from under his knee, to above them, to his thigh. 

He squeezes them once and notices a few of the marks and bruises from their last time together. Nothing has ever looked more delectable. 

"All for you, 'Tsumu." He whispers. "All for you. I want to ride you." 

Fuck. Atsumu prays twice that he doesn't come so soon. 

"Yeah, Shin. Fuck. Yeah, sounds good." 

And then Shinsuke lifts the hem, and the frills all together. 

Under sits nothing other than his aching cock, filled out all prettily for Atsumu, leaking and weeping. It's red at the head, flushed and hard, and Atsumu peeks several twitches from it's reveal. 

This whole time, Kita wasn't wearing any boxers. 

Fuck. 

"Gods, Shin, 'yer actually such a slut for my cock, aren't 'ya?" Atsumu hisses, observing as Kita wraps a fist around the shaft of his own cock. He begins slow, languid strokes in attempts to tease Atsumu from his seat as a watcher, draw out his torture, make him beg for it. 

Kita throws his head back and sighs. His fist closes into a smaller circle with his digits as his strokes reach the head. A few times, Shinsuke's hand stills, thumb teasing at his own slit. 

"Yeah... Love the way you fill me, 'Tsumu..." He whimpers. His head falls back down, and Atsumu swears an angel has fallen. Kita's cheeks stain red, eyes half-lidded. His plump, full and pink lips part, eyebrows threading at the centers. 

He looks utterly blissed. 

Atsumu's own dick twitches. "Good boy, don'tcha dare come now, will 'ya?" The setter growls, actually growls, and finds himself threading fingers through his blond locks. "Nobody's ever gonna fill 'ya up as well as I can. 'Yer were made fer my cock, ain't that right, Shin?" 

A moan sets Atsumu back. 

"Oh... Uhn!" 

Atsumu's eyes flicker back down. 

Kita's riding his orgasm, only he's holding it down, gripping the base of his cock so hard Atsumu feels his pain through merely looking. Shinsuke's small hand barely fits, struggling as he eventually sighs in slight content. 

"Good boy. Now why don'tcha be a good maid n' help me get outta these, hm?" 

The ex-captain nods, his hands flying from his own cock and the sheets behind him to the other's sweatpants. He shifts slightly to sit on the top of the setter's thighs, wasting no time in tugging the waistband of both his sweats and boxers down. Atsumu's cock springs to life: hot, heavy and... Big. 

The size always astonishes Shinsuke, but he knows time after time that it's nothing he can't handle. Over and over and over again. 

Kita pulls them off the remainder of his legs and tosses them aside for later washing, only to return back in his position on Miya's lap in earnest. 

"Lube." 

"That ain't the way ta be talkin' ta 'yer master." 

"Lube... Please." 

"Good boy." 

The setter leans over to fish a tube from the bedside table, letting out a slight gap when Shinsuke tears it from his grip. Kita, yet again wasting zero seconds, flicks the cap and squirts an abundance of lube in his hand and keeps his position on his knees to slick up both Atsumu's cock and his own hole hastily. 

"Wait, Shin, let me prep you ─" 

"I already did in the shower before you got home. It's fine." 

The blond instantly kept quiet. 

Kita lined Atsumu's tip to his sopping, loose hole, teasing them both collectively together as he lowered himself to the entirety of the head, rose back up, and repeated several times. Although, Atsumu was impatient. He hadn't prayed twice for teasing, or for adrenaline edging. 

His hands flew to Kita's hips, holding them and thrusting up almost instantly. 

A broken moan escaped from Shinsuke's lips as his head threw back, hands clawing Atsumu's clothed chest. 

"Oh, baby. We're just gettin' started."


End file.
